It showed on her face. The recognition. It pained me in a way no other face has. There was a shadow of a glimmer of a chance of a possibility that she saw me see her, because she turned away at the precise moment that my pupils and irises were turned. The muscles in her bare shoulder tensed as she clawed at my daughter who impishly stood beside her, roughly twisting her fragile frame away from my gaping mouth. "That will be all, Mr.Wallhorn" She snarled. An eyelash poked at my eye, then slipped beneath my eyelid. She tossed a frayed crop of hair behind her "This girl belongs with people who know what they're doing...until you've got your life together, she'll be in our care. Good day." I saw with my ears the echoing empty sounds of her feet as she left me.
I stood with my hands in my pockets for a few moments more. One car passed, then another. A waft of smoke drifted nonchalantly through a window across the street. I spat on the ground, some people stared. I watched the spittle seep into a crack, pool up, then spill over onto a weed. Some guy was waving his arms over his head, then suddenly he was sprinting in my direction. I looked away, I didn't like the attention. My eyes glared at the setting sun just above the peaks of the buildings. "Hey!" He panted "Hey you're Norman Wallhorn aren't you? You're that guy that tried to jump from the Empire State Building!" I nodded. He continued "Well gee, why'd you do that?" I waved it off. "Sometimes you just gotta jump." I had my reasons, but this guy sure as hell didn't have to know them.